The Voyagers
by Lord-yami
Summary: Many years after Voldemort's defeat, Harry travels the world and enjoys his freedom, Ron is the ministry's poster boy, and hermione is somewhere in europe. but how all of this came to be? and what Daphne Greengrass and Fleur Delacour have to do with it? Chapter 1 and 2 Updated and Revised. Chapter 3 coming soon
1. Aquarela do Brasil

This is a plot bunny that came to me one day. i have a good idea where it wil lead, but don't be surprised with sudden changes.

this fanfic is canon until the end of the 6th year. any changes will be explained in a note or by the characters themselves.

This story is also being posted on Ao3, with the same name and username. it's a safeguard in case the contents of future chapters are questioned.

Unless you do not know them and they are OCs , all characters belong to JK Rowling and Warner Bros.

* * *

 **CHAPTER 1 - AQUARELA DO BRASIL**

 _He looked at the inside of the old home with hopeful eyes. The place was a fucking mess. Abandoned for so long, then occupied temporarily as the resistance headquarters, most of the missions that toppled the Death Eaters were planned right here. Some people suggested turning it into a museum, but Harry refused he wanted to live here, it was his only real inheritance, the money was kinda immaterial, stuffed at a Gringotts vault somewhere , always distant. This place could be touched, seen, felt. The nights he spent here, talking to the Order, about his parents, about Voldemort, about the war. It was here that he stopped being a scared child and became the adult who lead many to victory in the war. Somehow, It just felt right to raise a family here. To keep the legacy going._

 _But Ginny wanted none of it._

 _As he started dusting the place, with a conjured broom, he remembered the fight they had that morning._

 _"We can't live here Harry. This place is a mess. No one has been here since the end of the war for a reason." She shook her head at his insistence. "You have money, if you want to live somewhere, why not just buy a new house? Why do you want to live in this shack?"_

 _"Ginny, love. This is my house now. I'm not gonna abandon it. It need a little work, of course-"_

 _"A LITTLE? Harry, this place was falling apart when you found it. Took us all an entire summer to make it habitable. I still don't get your problem with living in the Burrow, since my parents moved out-"_

 _Harry actually laughed at her mention of the burrow._

 _"Oh, so living in your family's house is ok, but living in mine is a problem? And this house may be a 'shack', but at least it can stand without magic."_

 _This was true. As old and run down the place could be, its foundations were still solid. After years and at least 3 battles fought there, the Burrow was only still standing because of Molly's insistence and the order's solid wandwork._

 _Ginny turned angry red at that. He knew things were gonna get ugly now._

 _"Oooh, don't go there Potter. Don't you DARE insult the place I grew up in. The place that received you so many times when you needed! I don't get why you want to live here Harry, I really don't. But I am not. If you want to live with me, it will be somewhere else, if you really care about our relationship. Then you're going back to the Burrow with me!"_

 _Something clicked inside Harry. That was it. The last drop. He spent his teen years being pushed around, ordered around, and being told what to do, how to feel. All the big decisions of his life were either made for him by others, or imposed on him 'for his own good'. He was an adult now. He had enough._

 _"Ok Ginny, you are right"he said. She opened a huge smile, and raised her hands as if waiting for a hug. But Harry sat on the old, moth-eaten couch, and looked at her. "I'll be fine here by myself. You can go back to your home."_

* * *

 **Several Years Later.**

Harry took one last look through the huge windows of the hotel room that had been his house for the last 2 months. Brazil. Copacabana Beach. The carnival was over, and it was time to leave for a new country. He liked Brazil. The sun, beaches, one of the most likable people he had ever met. And the woman. Not only the Brazilian ones, even those who were only here for a while, like him, seemed different, more beautiful, freer.

Freedom. That was the defining word of his life since leaving England. He spent the last years traveling across Europe and the Americas. Sometimes staying in for a while, like when he decided to learn Aztec runes in Mexico, or just staying for a few days, enough to see the sights and then leave. this was his life now. Everything he owned could fit in his traveling chest, which was more like a portable closet then a chest. His books, his clothes, he even had an entire potions set inside it, in case he needed to make a potion for some reason. Last time he used it was to try and make soup while camping in the Rocky Mountains

He looked at his room, the muggle hotel was a tad more expensive than one in the magical area, but here he was just another tourist. He paid in advance for the 2 months, already planning to leave by the end of February, so it was time to get ready, pack, and get back on the road, so to say.

With a wand movement, his pajamas went to the bag, and he entered the shower. Fifteen minutes later, clean and changed, he picked up the chest, activated the disguise that made it look like a normal traveling bag, and went to the hotel reception, to check out.

He had breakfast in a wooden kiosk at the beach, simple things, bread and butter with some local coffee. He had acquired a taste for the local food in this time, breakfast in special. Something light and easy to digest to start the day. And no pumpkin juice in sight. It was early in the morning, but people were on the beach already. He considered joining them for a while, but decided it was better to leave.

His next destination was the magical quarter of Rio, where he would board a magical cruise ship leaving for Portugal. It was an expensive way to travel, but Harry did not care. The month he would spend on the ship was well worth it. it would give him time to think about his next destination, and the one after that. And was a chance to meet people. One of the good parts of his travels was that, making friends and contacts everywhere. You never know when you would need a hand. Or where.

Before leaving, he looked around the magical area of Rio. It looked older then the diagonal alley, but much more solid and colorful. An entire neighborhood hidden away by magic. Luiza, a local witch he spent some nights with, explained that the whole zone was from the colonial times, more than 300 years old, and kept protected and hidden from the development of the city around it by powerful wards, it also had the distinction of being one of the few magical ports in the world. Back then, it was only a small wooden dock, now it was a modern port, capable of receiving 5 ships at the same time. And it was not the biggest one, there was one in a city to the south that was even larger. Something he never thought that could exist while in England. But it was only after leaving that he realized how limited wizards in England were. A literal world of possibilities was open before him.

The Carnival decorations were still hanging everywhere , with proofs of the tremendous party that happened here last night still around. Looking at the palm trees, Harry saw a bra hanging from one of the branches. He remembered that. It belonged to a red-headed witch that had way too much to drink. He wondered how she went home without it. And then remembered that there were other witches and wizards with her, and that she probably was staying somewhere around there, as he had seen her before during the carnival days. Not that it would matter anyway.

With an eye to his watch, he walked the cobblestone streets to the docks. A line was already in place to embark, where a man in blue uniform checked the documents. Two girls talking in Portuguese queued up behind him, and started chatting about something. He knew enough of the language to get some things. A party, a guy, something about a port. No, a city in Portugal, Porto. He was distracted trying to make sense of it when his turn arrived.

"Documentos e passagem por favor, senhor. "

Harry checked the pockets of his pants for the rectangular piece of paper and his ID, the dock worker checked both, marked the passage with a wand touch, and the velvet rope opened itself to allow him in.

"Tenha uma boa viagem Senhor Evans. "

Harry smiled and thanked him, and went into the stairs to the ship. A huge magical purple wooden staircase, as big as the ship, with red velvet carpet. The ship itself was modern looking on the outside, and could pass for a normal, if small, touristic cruiser. But on the inside, the ship was huge and luxurious. The wooden interiors decorated with paintings of wizards and witches in relaxing situations. A huge restaurant that surely was manned by house elves, a pool with magical jets of water and a waterslide that was actually made of water, and a sundeck where some people were working on their tans.

His room was the only on his floor, and Harry knew exactly why. It was the 'Royal Suite', with enough space for 10 people. It was a tad expensive, but was worth it. No people walking around, no noisy neighbors banging on the walls and agreeing repeatedly with each other. Only silence, a nice hot tub, and a beautiful view of the sea. He entered the room, locked the door, and kicked his shoes off, took off his pants and his fancy shirt, and threw himself in the soft, king-size bed. On top of the bed, a huge circular painting of the constellations and the night sky moved slowly. The Aries constellation bowed, as if welcoming the new room inhabitant, and pointed with its head to the bedside table, where a small wooden plaque was. Inspecting it, Harry realized it was some type of controller for the room, he could read some of the words in Portuguese: windows, lights, bed, mirror. Wait, mirror? He looked around the room and saw no mirrors. He touched with his wand on the word, and nothing seemed to happen. The windows closed at the command, making the room dark. The lights could be dimmed with a simple movement, and the bed covers changed and straightened themselves. But no mirror.

Deciding to think of it later, he lied again in bed, and a 20-something man with vivid messy red hair and soft brown eyes wearing only a pair of Gryffindor boxers looked back at him. A mirror in the ceiling? Why on earth would he need that? He looked at his hair and face. His glamour charms were quite good this days. And were the best way to move around avoiding looks, stares, and the eventual British reporter who managed to track him down. He waved his wand, and the charm vanished, with his hair going back to black, and his eyes shining green again. He moved his hair, and looked at where his scar used to be. Now a normal piece of skin with no marks. Amazing what a magical surgeon with muggle training could do.

He waved his wand towards the radio, and a upbeat song filled the room, a woman's voice singing something about the had listened to that song quite a lot in his time here, and tried to follow the lyrics. The ship took its time to leave, but eventually Harry felt the engines turning on, and the Brazilian coast slowly becoming smaller through the now opened windows. His voice was not as good as the singer, but he did his best.

 _...Esse coqueiro que dá coco_

 _Onde amarro minha rede_

 _Nas noites claras de luar_

 _Por essas fontes murmurantes_

 _Onde eu mato a minha sede_

 _Onde a lua vem brincar_

 _Esse Brasil lindo e trigueiro_

 _É o meu Brasil Brasileiro_

 _Terra de samba e pandeiro..._

 _Oi! Essas fontes murmurantes_

 _Onde eu mato a minha sede_

 _Onde a lua vem brincar_

 _Esse Brasil lindo e trigueiro_

 _É o meu Brasil Brasileiro_

 _Terra de samba e pandeiro_

 _Brasil!_

His Portuguese was terrible, but there was time to work on it. He would go to Lisbon, meet his local friends, then maybe spend some time in Paris or Bordeaux. Maybe even visit Italy or Greece. But one thing was certain. He was definitively coming back next year.


	2. Shangailander

The rising sun awakened the girl that was sprawled on the bed. She tried to cover her eyes, afraid of what that light would mean, but it insisted in waking her. She tried to get up, but a strong arm over her halted that movement. Along with the sudden headache that hit her like a stinging spell.

She put her head back down, and tried to assess her situation. Her head still hurt, but it was a known pain, caused by one too many drinks last night. A simple hangover potion would deal nicely with that. She kept her eyes closed, and tried to sense the rest of her body. Everything seemed in place. No other pains, although the slight breeze indicated that she might be somewhat undressed. Nothing to worry about for now. She was obviously in a bed, and if the fluffy pillow under her head was any indication, it was her own bed too.

All of this was good. Now, the arm and the heavy breather on her side.

With her eyes still closed, she used a bit of passive legilimency. He was still sleeping, so there was not much too read. She tried to force herself a bit into his mind, but the headache was making it hard to concentrate. So she went for plan B. her hand moved under the pillow for her wand, which was there. Good. A small silent levitation spell raised the arm from over her, allowing her to slide off the bed to a sitting position on the floor beside it.

She opened her eyes, and saw some clothes thrown around on the floor, a bit more of focus showing that It was a man's black military uniform, a pair of boots, and some green silk that was probably her underwear. Trying to remember last night, Daphne Greengrass looked over the overcoat, and saw something she did not expected, the logo of the Shanghai Magical Guard. How on Merlin's white beard she ended up coming home with a cop of all people? She looked back to the bed. He was strong, seemed to be on his twenties, tanned brown skin and a light beard. Probably Indian or Middle-Eastern. She sighed heavily, at least he was handsome. flashes of last night came back to her. it had been a good night. Worth it.

An angry hoot brought her back from her wondering and remembering. At the window, a familiar owl was sitting on it, having pulled the red curtains open to enter the room. So that's where all the light was coming from. She got up, and caressed the head of the owl, trying to remember the stupid name her sister gave to the thing. Something Greek. The bird bit her hand, angry with something. Maybe it was waiting for her to wake up for a while? She took the letter, threw it on the writing table nearby, that was currently occupied by a pair of pants, a turned over ink glass and some pieces of parchment. She turned around to check herself in the bathroom, and another angry hoot called her attention. The owl was looking at her angrily, it looked to the letter, then back at her.

"Eh? What do you want thingy? I'm not answering her right now, and the owlery is at the top of the building. Just go" the owl narrowed its eyes at her, just like her younger sister used to do. How the hell did her sister thought it to do that? "don't look at me like that! Just go, shoo! Shoo!"

She waved her arms at it, and the owl hooted at her, as if offended, and left through the open window. She closed the curtains, and looked back at the man in her bed. He was still sleeping and snoring lightly. Oh well. No longer interrupted, she went into the bathroom, turned on the water on the bathtub, and turned to look herself in the mirror.

Her White-Blonde hair was a mess, a flash of someone putting its hands on it and messing it came to her head, along with one of the same person behind her, pulling it. getting ready was going to take longer now, since she would have to wash and dry the waist-length hair. Her makeup spell was still on, which was good, but the real make-up she applied to give it a boost was running. With a wand wave, the spells were gone, and she saw the black mascara stains around her eyes. She washed it away carefully, and immersed her body in the warm water on the bathtub.

She slowly checked her body for marks or bumps, but found none. It seems that her unnamed lover was more of a gentleman, she tried to remember where she could have chatted up a guard. She had spent her night dancing in a club at the muggle part of the city, then left at some point during the night and came back to the magical side. She remembered entering her favorite bar, and chatting with the bartender for a while, Quin was an old chinese man, that opened the bar back in the 30s and knew a absurd amount of drinks, both magical and muggle. They were talking something about Europe, when the guy entered the bar. His shift had ended and he wanted to unwind. They started chatting while sitting in the bar, and struck a chord with each other. Something about being at war. He mentioned the pyramids at some point. Could he be Egyptian? She remember asking for a drink after another, drinking with him, and then coming to the hotel. It was not her usual, but again, from what she remembered, worth it.

She soaked up for a while in the bath, and after she considered herself clean enough, she summoned a towel, dried herself, brushed and dried her hair with a few wand moves, and went back into the room. Her partner-in-bed was awake now, sitting in the bed wearing his underwear and trying to remove an ink stain from his pants. He looked at her naked form and smiled, saying something in a language she did not knew, she looked at him and shook her head negatively, to tell him she did not understood. Then repeated it in 'shanghainese', the local language, that mixed Chinese with half a dozen different european languages.

"Good day my beauty, are you well?"

She smiled, and he returned the smile, he was handsome, but this was no way to start anything.

"Did you sleep well? I wondered you had already left. I woke up and didn't find you"

"I'm used to getting up earlier. And this is my room, why would I leave my own home and leave you alone here? Oh, and good morning to you too" he laughed, and got up to put his pants. "you live in here? This hotel room? I saw you many times before, on the streets, coming and going. I thought you worked here"

Daphne considered what he said. Worked here. Had he just called her a hooker? She dropped her smile and glared at him, his expression showed that he understood her.

"No no no, wait, you got me wrong my beauty, I thought you worked at the reception, or maybe singing in the bar, not like that" her passive occlumency told he was being sincere, and she still had a headache,worst after that, so she let it go.

"Yes. I do live here, it's easier than buying a place,I can leave when I want and don't have to worry about furniture. Now, although i do not work here, but i am needed somewhere, and I cannot be late, so…" it was a lie, she lived only on her part of her parent's fortune, which was substantial, and her investments gave her some nice return. But she wanted him to leave, and avoid a situation.

"Don't worry beauty, I'm leaving too, my shift starts in 2 hours, and I still have to get home and change uniforms" he pointed to the half vanished ink stain in his leg.

She left him to finish dressing, and opened her closet trunk with a light kick to it. the lid shot up, and if unfolded, becoming a door, she pulled open the curtains and entered, looking around and deciding what she would wear today. She put on some underwear, and a pretty green cheongsam with a flowery pattern. It had no sleeves, and ended on her knees. She looked at the mirror, and decided to tie her hair in a bun, along with some simple jewelry. She loved the fact that magical shanghai's fashion sense was still in the 20`s, the clothes were so much more flattering than the long robes from her homeland

Leaving her closet, she heard it closing behind her. The guard had already left. She left a heavy sigh of tranquility escape. No need to pretend she remembered his name or even cared about it. a spell fixed her bed and folded her clothes from last night in a small pile at the foot of the bed. Another wave and the spilled ink in her table was gone, and the papers were neatly folded in a pile, her sister's letter, still unopened laying on top of it. she opened the window, pulling the curtains, and looked at her view of the city.

The hotel was one of the tallest buildings around, with most having only 2 or 3 floors, the Oriental Flower Hotel was a nice, 6 story building, that was not the fanciest place in magical Shanghai, but had it's charm, for being almost 100 year old and looking like it had been finished yesterday. It also stood apart for being built in traditional Chinese style, instead of the art deco of the other buildings around it. a tempus spell told her it was 9 in the morning, and her stomach complained about the lack of food. She closed the windows, put the letter in her purse, summoned a vial from her potions cabinet and drank it in one gulp. the hangover potion worked like a charm, and she could feel her head clearing up. Now, breakfast was in order.

At the hotel restaurant, she slowly ate her Baozi and the Youtiao, slowly drinking the sweet soymilk that came with it. She watched as the people came and went in the hotel restaurant. Magical Shanghai had been protected and preserved during the 20s, and still received a great number of foreigners from everywhere in the world. Some were only here for a while, and you could spot them easily: Still wearing robes or pointed hats, looking lost as if they were in the muggle world. Others, like her, had been 'Shanghaied', dressing and acting local, even speaking the weird cultural mix that was the local dialect. She had been living here for a bit more than 2 years now, and an unknown passerby could even think she was born in here, despite the blond hair and blue eyes.

Truth is she loved this city, when she first arrived, her intention was to stay only a few days, a week at most. But the city absorbed her, engulfed her. The mix of cultures, the bars, the fashion, everything was new, and yet somehow familiar. It was not home, and she always kept this in mind. But at some days, she considered cutting her least ties to 'ye old England' and buying a house on the garden district.

After breakfast, she took a rickshaw, told the magical worker to take her to the Dragon Gardens, and sat back and enjoyed the ride. The stone construct walked in a nice pace, slow enough for her to look at the storefronts on the way. In a few minutes, she reached her destination, the huge garden that marked the northern end of Magical Shanghai. Filled with plants and trees from the entire world, it was a peaceful place, labyrinthic at times, with its sinuous paths that led to nowhere. There were no places like this back home. She found the way to her favorite place, a solitary bench near a small fountain decorated with serpent dragons, somewhere deep in the gardens, where not many people went. She stared at the sky for a while, thinking. Even though she never wrote back, her sister's letters kept finding her. If she wanted to keep in contact, she would have written back. What did her sister wanted now? To have another stupid argument about her "Acting her part" and "honoring their parent's legacy" ? she breathed deeply and shrugged. Only one way to know.

 _Dear Daphne_

 _I do hope that Hestia can find you to deliver this letter, and that it finds you well_

 _Where are you my sister? how are you? It's been years since the last time you wrote, and even longer since we saw each other. I know that we were never close, but I still miss you and worry about you._

 _In the time you've been away, Merlin knows where doing who knows what, things have finally stabilized here in England. Draco got his family place back in the Wizengamot, and our new manor is finally finished and decorated, so now you have your own room when you come to visit, although I instructed the elves to always keep the lake house clean and tidy in case you decided to come back. I would have fixed our parent's manor too, if you hadn't locked me out of the wards, by accident, i can only hope._

 _Your Nieces miss you so much. Young Syenna is doing accidental magic now, she turned her bedsheets green from the original pink. I hope this means she is already a Slytherin in her heart. And even though she never met you, Delphine asks about you when she sees our photos. She is only 5 and is so smart and clever. She reminds me of how I use to see you when we were younger. And on this subject, I am pregnant again. Isn't it great? I do hope it's a boy, but it's too early to say. Draco has high hopes that it will finally be his Scorpius._

 _And you? Have you finally met a good, proper man and decided to build a family somewhere? I do hope you did not got married and didn't invite me sis. If you didn't know that Theo is still single, and asks about you every time he visits._

 _Please, do answer me this time sis. I grow worried about you._

 _Love_

 _Astoria Malfoy._

Daphne sighed heavily. Astoria had not changed, still the same little emotional manipulator. She was impressed she did not mentioned her dead parents in this one, how they must be so saddened that their older daughter has never visited their tomb. Like they would have time to worry about that in hell.

Still, the letter hit true. she had 2 nieces somewhere that she could barely remember. Astoria sent a picture in the last letter, but she burned it some days later, after an American guy she hooked up with asked her if they were her daughters. Different from her sister, she felt no need to establish a family and pop out children until her husband got tired of her. She remembered too well how her parents marriage were. Regal, powerful, a true power couple. And yet they never shared a meal, or even slept in the same bed. A cold, dead relationship, made only for appearances and "family duty".

She had gotten more love from Khemet last night then her parents ever shared. Khemet! That was his name. Not that it mattered anymore.

And from all the devils in England, Theodore Nott Jr was asking about her? What on earth for? Had he forgotten how her freezing his balls in the 3th year gave her the nickname "Ice Queen"?

She walked to the main square in the garden, where the vendors and peddlers were, and bought a newspaper from the local seller, and tried to concentrate on the news of the day. The Communist Magical Government in Beijing had made another deal with the Shanghai administration to keep their alliance for another decade. China was a huge agglomerate of magical nations and groups, and the Central Magical Chinese Authority tried to guarantee that everyone worked and lived in peace without disturbing the muggle world. A new ocean liner route was going to be open, this time going all the way to San Francisco, in the US. Nice, she always wanted to take a trip in a magical ship, maybe in the Americas her sister would leave her alone. It didn't seem likely, since she was literally on the other side of the world, and still had to deal with her letters and manipulation.

She breathed in and out, walked out of the gardens, and went for a walk on the oceanside. The view calmed her, but it was still there, the letter had somehow touched her. Not because of her sister or her useless excuse of a husband. But her nieces. She couldn't even remember her faces. Were they really asking about her? Or was it just another manipulation tactic? And her pregnancy. Another kid would be born from her sister, another niece or nephew she never met.

She thought about it. It was a tactical move from her sister, trying to melt her heart. But maybe it was time to go back, even if just to tell her sister how much of a stupid name Scorpius was. She checked the train times on the paper, fortunately, the Orient express was arriving from Tokyo tonight, and would leave to the east in a day. All she had to do was pack.

Back in her hotel room, she packed everything in her closet-trunk, and checked her room for anything she could have forgotten, when she was convinced nothing was left, she closed the trunk, put on her dragon-leather overcoat, shrunk the trunk to a convenient size, pocketed it, and went down to the reception. There, the surprised face of the hotel manager and owner looked back at her.

"Hello Armand, I'm here to check out"

"But Miss Greengrass, you, leaving my hotel? Surely our competition has not managed to steal you, has it? We can negotiate a new price for the room if you wish"

She laughed at the man's reaction, she had been here for so long, and had mingled so much that leaving the city was not even on his mind as a possibility.

"No,No my dear, i would never leave you for another hotel, I'm leaving for Europe, I'm going to visit my sister before she gives me for dead. That, and she is pregnant, and has a daughter I never met. But i will only be away for a few months" or so she hoped.

"Oh, in that case, let me close your account for now, and give you a discount, if you want, I can even leave that same room reserved for you."

She smiled. when came back, perhaps she would even buy one of his rooms instead of just renting, The imperial suite at the top floor would fit her nicely.

After paying her bill, she left the hotel, and walked through the main street to the train station. On the way, a children's store front called her attention, her nieces could use a gift from a distant land. 20 minutes later, with the bag shrunk and in the same pocket as her trunk, she entered the Great Oriental Train Station. Built by the German, run by a Dutchman, and designed by the Chinese, it was an example of the many cultures that formed and maintained the city. She bought her ticket on the Orient Express with a nice house elf teller, and went to the train platform. While the muggle line went only from Paris to Istanbul, the magical one crossed the middle east, passing through India, and running up the coast to Shanghai and Beijing, then Seoul, before crossing the waters to Japan, and finally ending in Tokyo.

She had lunch in the train restaurant, eating some roasted duck and dumplings, with some apple juice to wash it down and re-read her sister's letter. She still couldn't shake the feeling of playing right into her hands. But still, her nieces. She thought about writing a reply, but decided against it. If by the time she arrived in Istanbul her mind was still insisting on this idea, she would send Astoria a letter and set a date to meet her.

By nightfall, the magical train started moving, she gave her ticket to the train inspector, and entered the passengers wagon to find her cabin. 36C. she entered the place, and was greeted by a nice room, with a queen-size bed, a writing table and a bathroom with a shower. It was small for what she was used to, but it was a train cabin after all, not a house. she hanged her coat by the door, put her trunk and the gift bags over the table, and laid on the bed. It was too soft for her, but a spell could fix that. The train emitted a loud whistle, and gained speed moving fast along it's magical tracks. She closed the curtains, and stared at the ceiling. After so long she was returning to Europe.

Her sister better not be lying on that letter, or by Morgana, she would skin Draco alive.


End file.
